Page 7 of The Weather Man

around the cool metal.

  "All right Eli, show me some life."

  Lightning flashed outside the window and lit up the old man's face. But there was no reaction. His breathing remained slow and shallow. Geoff waited for nearly half an hour before shouting in frustration.

  "Damn it old man, do something!"

  But nothing changed, not even a twitch. Geoff sighed in resignation. There was only one thing left to try. It was completely crazy but what choice did he have. He refused to just let his new friend die.

  Geoff snuck a wheelchair into the ward. He pulled the curtain around Eli’s bed and began disconnecting the wires and tubes. Emergency generators were working so the halls were only dimly lit. No alarms went off when he disconnected the machines. He peaked out at the nurses’ station at the far end of the ward but no one took notice. Using the hospital bed to prop the man up, he dressed him in his hat, coat, and boots. The hospital was in chaos due to the storm. Nurses and orderlies practically ran through the hallways as new patients arrived in ambulances. No one even noticed the strange pair as they rode the elevator up instead of down, up to the top floor of the hospital.

  There was a heliport on the roof and door was thankfully not locked. Guess they figured what nut job would be on the roof in the middle a thunderstorm - just a dying Weather Man and his crazy friend. Geoff wheeled Eli out into the rain and to the very center of the H in the circle. The wind and rain were ridiculously strong. Geoff locked the wheelchair in place and grabbed Eli under the shoulders. With a loud grunt he lifted him up to his feet as best he could. The man was easily 150 pounds of dead weight. Rain streamed down the Weather Man's hat and coat. Standing behind him, Geoff placed the staff in Eli’s hands and clasped his own around them. Then he stood there and waited.

  "All right Weather Man, do your stuff."

  Unfortunately, Eli did not move. Geoff’s muscles ached holding the Weather Man upright. His long coat was a slippery as a seal, but he did not let him down. He also realized he could not see the man’s face from this direction. Were his eyes even open?

  Oh shit, Geoff thought, what if he dies on me up here, what then? How do I explain this? More importantly, how do I stop the storm? He failed to notice when Eli blinked once, then opened his eyes a slit.

  "Geoffrey," he called out weakly.

  Geoff increased his grip on the man. "Eli?"

  "Here," the man said softly.

  Geoff gasped in relief. "Thank God. Are you all right? How do you feel?"

  He felt Eli grip the bar on his own. “Better.” Then his knees locked and he supported his own weight. Geoff did not leave go of his shoulders though.

  At that moment, a brilliant flash of lightning lit the night sky like a strobe light. It was followed instantaneously by clap of heavy thunder. It made the rooftop shake beneath their feet. "We've got one hell of a storm here Weather Man. What are we going to do about it?"

  Eli stared up at the churning, blackened sky. "I am too weak to do this on my own. Support my arms. Do not let me fall."

  Geoff nodded and did as he said. Eli then raised the staff over their heads. Geoff could immediately feel the energy radiating through them. Only this time, it did not feel as wild as on his apartment roof. Somehow it felt more controllable, like revving the engine on a sports car.

  "Now concentrate on the clouds."

  Geoff did his best to focus his frazzled brain on the task at hand. The Weather Man went slowly through a number of slow moves. Geoff followed and supported the motions, though the nimbus clouds remained unchanged. Another great flash struck a lightning rod on the building next door. The zigzagged bolt seemed to travel up to heaven itself. The thunder clap made the both of them jump to their toes and sent Geoff’s ear to ringing. Damn it this isn’t working!

  Then suddenly, he no longer needed to second guess the Weather Man's next move. The realization dawned on him after a minute or two. He was moving freely on his own. Somehow, he knew instinctively what to do next.

  The staff glowed blue-green in the Weather Man’s hands. Each move was stronger, more fluid than it's predecessor. Soon the clouds began to move, grudgingly like the forced march of POWs. They flashed and rumbled in complaint, but damn it they did move.

  "Yeah!" Geoff shouted and laughed at the storm. “Ha! Take that!”

  It took twenty minutes more work, but finally the worse seemed to be over. The wind died down to stiff breeze and the rain to a steady drizzle. The clouds thinned out and drifted higher in the sky. The Weather Man lowered the staff with a heavy sigh. Then his knees gave in.

  Geoff caught the man before he hit the ground and helped him back in the wheelchair. "Are you O.K.?"

  The Weather Man nodded weakly. "Aye. That just took a lot out of me. I'm getting too old for this." Geoff wheeled him back into the shelter by the elevator. Eli managed a smile. "I couldn't have done it without you though. That was a fine bit of weathering.”

  “Yea well, you wouldn’t say that if you saw my attempt back at the apartment building.”

  “That was foolish Geoffrey, though very brave. You did very well tonight ... just like I knew you would."

  "Knew I would? I thought you’d be angry."

  "You weren't able to help me just by chance. A Weather Man is born with his abilities, inherited from a parent.” He looked straight at Geoff, a shade of regret flashing in his blue-green eyes. “Or a grandparent."

  "Grandparent? What, my grandfather was a Weather Man?"

  "Was, and still is.”

  It took a second for his tired mind to make the connection. “Eli … are you saying you’re my grandfather?”

  “Aye, I am.”

  This was too much to absorb. Geoff turned away from him, facing rooftop.

  “Your father and I had a falling out after you were born. For whatever twist of fate he never inherited the power. And he didn’t want you to have any part of being a Weather Man. Then after he died in Gulf War, well, it was not the time to approach you. I honored your mother’s request to leave you be until you were older."

  Geoff didn't know whether to be delighted or furious. He had never known either of his grandparents. His father had told him they all died before he was born. "I don't understand. Why didn't you tell me who you were sooner?”

  “I am sorry. I always planned to in time.”

  He turned back to the man. “I’m twenty-nine years old! What were you waiting for?"

  Eli’s face was awash with regret. "The right moment. Please understand, you needed to be mature enough to accept the existence of Weather Men first. You must accept the responsibility voluntarily."

  "Responsibility? What do you mean?"

  Aimsir put his hand on Geoff’s shoulder. "You are the next in line Geoffrey. The next Weather Man. There is no one left in our family to continue except you."

  Geoff took a step back from him. This was too much to take at once. First a lost long grandfather and now this. “Me, a Weather Man?”

  "You're linked to the skies too Geoffrey, just like all Weather Men are. I know you felt it today. Why do you think meteorology fascinates you? Why were always able to tell when it was going to rain? Why do you run outside to watch an approaching storm?"

  “How did you know that?”

  Eli smiled. “Cause I do the same thing.” He held the rod out in front of him. "There are so few of us remaining. Many of us are very old. We won't be able to continue forever. I am here to teach you, if you wish to learn. Will you join us? Will you be a Weather Man?"

  Geoff stood motionless before him. This was far more than a job he was being offered, it was a lifelong obligation. Was he ready for such a thing? Did he even want it?

  “Take it Geoffrey. It’s yours now.” His grandfather waited patiently for his response.

  In the end, Geoff realized there was really no decision to make. After tonight, after feeling the power of the skies, he knew he was destined to be a Weather Man all his life. He’d never be able to turn his back on it now. Point in fact,
he needed it. Slowly, Geoff raised his hands and grasped the cold staff. With eyes wet with tears, Eli let go.

  ***

  The news anchor finished the day’s headlines and turned to the TV camera. "And now it's time for Channel 3's Weather with our own award-winning meteorologist, Geoff MacLeod." He turned to where Geoff stood before the green screen and his computer generated weather map. Geoff stood confidently with a modest smile on his face. He was prime time now, no longer delegated to the 11 o’clock news.

  "Geoff, what is your secret? Six months now without a single wrong forecast. That must be some kind of record. How do you do it?”

  Geoff grinned slyly and gave an innocent shrug at the TV camera. "What can I say Brian. I'm a Weather Man."

  ###

  About the Author

  Paul Andrews was born and raised in the mountains of rural Pennsylvania. He writes novels, novellas and short stories when not working his day job as a R&D project manager. His favorite moment of any storm is the last few moments just before the rain falls - the clouds heavy with menace, the gusts swaying the trees, the lighting just short of danger. The energy and exhilaration of that moment inspired The Weather Man. Paul currently lives, works and writes in Durham, North Carolina with his wife, their two children and two cats.

  Visit the author’s website for more at: https://paulwandrews.wordpress.com

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